Distracted
by Luny Lady
Summary: Hermione is frustrated to find herself distracted in her seventh year at Hogwarts. Who would have thought that the studious Gryffindor would have a crush, of all things, on the dark and generally unpleasant Potions Master?
1. September

Okay. Some Hermione/Severus fics make me angry with their stupidity/OOCness. Therefore, here is what would REALLY happen, if they were forced out of character just a nudge into liking each other. Well... I'm not sure Snape's capable of "liking" anyway. Whatever. Just give it a chance. =)

And I don't own the HP universe. Thanks a lot for reminding me. -walks to a corner to pout-

* * *

Hermione Granger was distracted.

She was distracted by the constant threat on her life, the lives of her friends, and the lives of her parents.

She was distracted by the idea that in a mere year she would be forced out of the only world she knew, the world of books and studying and every answer being either right or wrong, and forced into the real world in which nothing would ever be as clear.

She was most distracted, however, by a certain individual that caused her great distress. A long curtain of hair obscuring dark, emotionless eyes. Spindly fingers working quickly and efficiently in the dim light of the dungeon classroom. Pale skin with an eerie glow cast upon it by the multi-colored fumes issued by the many cauldrons in the room.

Distracted was an accurate word for the bookish Gryffindor, and she did not like to be distracted.

She finished the brewing concoction set before her and attempted to gather her things and leave the suffocating atmosphere of the dungeons as soon as possible, but was stopped by a glare directed at her from her greatest distraction.

"I don't believe I gave anyone permission to leave yet, Miss Granger," he said, a hint of a dare to question him hidden in the words.

Not trusting herself to answer without a waver to her voice, the young woman nodded and took her seat. She fumbled with her textbook and attempted to start the reading that was assigned for homework. "_Why is he affecting me this way?_" she mentally cursed. "_He's a professor, he's completely unpleasant, and he isn't even attractive_," she tried to assure herself.

She pretended it was working.

Finally the bell rang signaling the end of the class. She rushed to put her book away in her bag to finally escape the prison that the room had become. She cursed under her breath when she realized how clumsy she was being, wrinkling papers and crushing a quill with her hurried actions.

That was the last straw. She would not allow herself to be so... so... _frazzled_ by a stupid schoolgirl crush on a professor! Holding her head high, Hermione Granger exited the classroom feeling confident she'd convinced herself to turn a new leaf.

That is until the one voice that could break her reverie decided to do just that.

"Miss Granger, I do believe it is customary to leave your work station looking as though it hasn't been run over by a herd of hippogriffs."

She clenched her fists and re-entered the room, running a new mantra repeatedly through her head.

_"I must not like Professor Snape. I must not like Professor Snape. I must not-_"

She dropped a vial. "Damn it!" she hissed, using her wand to repair the glass and clean up the wasted ingredients.

"Five points for language, Granger." He practically purred with delight at being able to take points from her house. She glared at nothing in particular until the humiliating cleaning was done. Frustrated at her own actions, the Gryffindor practically ran out of the room.

* * *

Snape watched the girl haphazardly straighten the table at which she'd been working, and smirked to himself when she spilled the sopohorous. He practically chuckled in delight when she cursed, just because it gave him an excuse to take points.

He knew that he was cruel, possibly too cruel, but he blamed the girl. It was her fault for being so distracted in his class. He'd be damned if he'd allow that kind of carelessness in a classroom where possibly dangerous substances were being handled on a constant basis.

Once she left, he began to wonder about her seemingly overwhelming distraction. He had noticed that elsewhere she seemed much less preoccupied with whatever it was that was on her mind in his class. Not that he was watching her. That would be inappropriate and downright _wrong _of him. She was a student, and a Gryffindor at that. He needn't remind himself of how annoying she was either.

He glared at the spot where she'd been working.

No. He was definitely not watching her for reasons other than to figure out why she seemed so inattentive in his class, and only in his class.

That's what he kept telling himself anyway.


	2. October

I forgot to add in to the last intro that every chapter is a month of the school year. The story will be nine chapters (from September to May) and then an epilogue. All but the last chapter and the epilogue have been written, so motivate me with reviews to post 'em quicker ;D

Do I really need another disclaimer? I think you all know that I'm not JKR and therefore none of this belongs to me but the rambling writing that I've put it together into.

* * *

Hermione was running. She was never late to class and she never missed a class unless she had been put in a near-death situation.

Even then it was debatable whether she'd actually miss the class or not.

So, she was running through the dungeons, trying her best not to slip on the rough stones and crack her head open. Near-death may have almost been an acceptable excuse, but being near-death due to clumsiness and stupidity was most definitely not.

She could've kicked herself when she thought about why she was forced to run through the hallway to make it to Potions on time. The truth was that she had been daydreaming about a certain bat-like Potions Master.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the class before Snape had entered. She moved toward the nearest open seat and had almost completely placed herself in the chair when a sneering voice announced, "Five points from Gryffindor for lack of preparedness for my class."

Her face flushed a deep red, one that she was sure it had never been before. How dare he take points when she was there on time? Just because she wasn't already seated when he entered didn't constitute a punishment!

She fumed for most of the class, overreacting to the unjust actions of her professor because it gave her an emotion to focus on that was easier to understand than the budding attraction she felt towards him.

She didn't understand it at all. He was old, greasy, and had treated her like the scum of the earth since she had arrived at the school. She shredded the asphodel in front of her angrily, noticing belatedly that she needed it in even portions for the potion at hand.

Hermione Granger was normally a clear-headed girl. Hermione Granger did not get upset with inanimate objects.

Hermione Granger did _not _have a crush on Professor Snape.

Growling in frustration, she added the ill-prepared ingredient to her potion, not caring what the outcome was.

For the average student, adding the oddly proportioned slices of asphodel wouldn't have mattered. For Hermione Granger, master of everything she attempted (Divination and Quidditch didn't count), it meant her potion wasn't the exact shade of blue it should be.

She knew he'd notice. She knew she wouldn't get perfect marks on the potion. She knew she'd been stupid to think she could make a slight mistake once in her life, especially in his presence.

What she didn't know was that the professor had been watching as she ripped apart the small root in anger. Curious as to why she had taken such forceful measures against the innocent plant, he decided to let it go and see how this sudden burst of emotion turned out.

He gave her a perfect mark.

She looked at him questioningly, but his eyes never met her gaze. Shrugging it off as good luck, Hermione left the potions classroom feeling as confused and distracted as ever.


	3. November

It was always cold in the dungeons, which was a fact that Severus had grown accustomed to. He clenched and released his stiff fingers repeatedly, observing the potion silently simmering before him that he'd spent the previous few hours working on.

Saturdays were his favorite day of the week. Saturdays meant freedom from duties and students. Saturdays meant experimenting and researching.

Saturdays were basically the only day that Severus Snape was pleasant.

Unless of course he was interrupted.

The harsh, desperate knocks on his door made him grind his teeth in aggravation. He stalked to the door and threw it open, hoping the person who had dared distract him from his only free time was prepared for his wrath.

"What is it, Granger?" he hissed through clenched teeth. He had no patience for the know-it-all, whether it was in class or on his one day of peace.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn't help but stare at the girl incredulously. Was she really shuffling her feet nervously, and wringing her hands? What on earth was wrong with the nosy chit?

"I'm sorry for interrupting you, sir, but... er... that is, I was wondering-"

"Get on with it," he whispered dangerously. She had better understand how much trouble she was in if she didn't have something important to say.

"I was wondering if you'd give me extra lessons in potions, because I find the subject fascinating and... and..." she trailed off. Her blasted Gryffindor courage seemed to have failed her halfway through her exclamation.

What the hell was wrong with this girl?

"No," he said simply, and slammed the door in her face.

He stalked back over to the still innocently brewing potion and glared at it. "Does she think I'm some fool who will give away his personal time for her incessant need to know _everything?" _he muttered.

He began pacing the classroom and speaking to various pieces of furniture around the room, all of which wisely kept their mouths shut.

"Why on earth does she want extra time with me anyway? She learns every damn thing from books, and Merlin knows there are plenty in the library on potions. It's not as though I'm the only source of the knowledge in the entire bloody castle. What right does she have to disturb my research? Why are women so damn confusing?"

He realized he was talking to himself. Out loud. And that she was quite possibly still standing on the other side of the door.

He sat down and stared hard at the opposite wall, trying to figure out the bewildering brunette. After a few minutes, he gave up the effort as hopeless and turned back to his work.

Quickly he was discouraged to find that he was too distracted to work any longer. Throwing down the stirring rod angrily, the previously unflappable Potions Master acknowledged that perhaps he had finally met a problem he couldn't solve with a cauldron.

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe how stupid she'd been to actually believe he'd give her extra lessons. She'd let this insane crush go too far, and now she'd humiliated herself to the man. "_Not a man," _she thought, clenching her fist, "_A great bloody evil bat." _She could've beat her head against the wall with frustration, but instead opted to aim her wand at a nearby unfortunate bit of lint, which promptly burst into flames.

The near-crazed Gryffindor was just about to test this little spell on something bigger, such as the new potions book she'd bought with the intention of learning Masters level things from her stupid, awful crush, when there was a sudden frantic tapping at the window. Nearly cursing at the intrusion upon her silent rant, she stood and opened the window for the poor creature.

When it dropped a small, ill-folded note on the window sill and flew away as quickly as it had shown up, Hermione frowned. She picked up the note and, seeing there was no name on the outside, unfolded it. She read the short message and smiled, suddenly somewhat giddy.

_"Extra lessons - Mondays at 6pm. Do _not _make it a waste of my time."_


	4. December

Sorry for how short this chapter is. You other writers know how it is sometimes- a story just tells you, "Hey, this is where I need to end," and you have to appease the almighty story Gods.

* * *

Hermione loved Christmas. She loved the snow, the decorations, buying gifts for the people she cared about, and most of all the general happiness surrounding the holiday.

She had managed to spend Christmas Eve and the morning of Christmas day with her parents, and the rest of the holiday at the Burrow with her best friends and second family. Overall, she felt it was the perfect way to spend her favorite day of the year.

Despite all the warm tidings, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity. She was sure that Snape was at Hogwarts, alone, with no presents and nobody to wish him a happy holiday.

With a sigh she turned to examine the happy faces around her. Shrugging off the thoughts as underestimating the Slytherin's capabilities of making friends, she pushed away the thoughts and continued to enjoy the day.

* * *

Severus Snape hated Christmas. It was the one time of year he had to be reminded that he had no close friends or family. It was freezing and leaky in the dungeons due to the excessive amounts of snow. He had to spend money on people he barely knew just to keep things civil between them. Worst of all was the general happiness surrounding the holiday.

It drove him mad.

He sat by the fire in his private quarters, nursing a bottle of firewhiskey and contemplating how he could've done things differently to perhaps bring himself a small amount of cheer on the supposedly wonderful holiday.

He chuckled bemusedly at the thought. He had received gifts from the other professors, mostly books dealing with potions that he'd read numerous times already and that he'd probably take back to Flourish and Blotts for a refund.

He swirled the contents of the bottle and looked into the fireplace. "I wonder how Granger's holiday is going," he muttered to himself. He imagined she was surrounded by laughter, her face full of joy, and opening gift upon gift from people who knew exactly what she liked.

Cursing himself for thinking about the blasted girl, he gulped down some of the amber liquid in his hand and made his way to bed.

"Damn Gryffindor. I hope she got coal," he growled before falling into a restless, drunken sleep.


	5. January

Hermione breathed in the crisp January air and watched the tiny clouds dissipate as soon as she breathed out. She sighed, thinking about the same man she'd had stuck in her over-active brain for the past few months.

She wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but she was frustrated with herself for allowing someone of the opposite sex to occupy so much of her thoughts. She'd even gone as far as asking him for private lessons a couple months ago. She felt stupid for doing such a childish thing, but at the time it had seemed like a good idea for spending extra time with him. It had turned out to be a tremendous amount of work, and generally he left her to her own devices with a simple, "Don't blow yourself up," before storming out. She supposed she should've thought of a better way to get to know the man, but it was all her Snape-crazy brain could think of at the time.

She had re-lived the moment countless times since it had actually happened, and thought that Legilimency or Occlumency would've been a better idea. Still... she couldn't help but feel any attempt to see the snarky professor outside of class was a hopeless, not to mention _ridiculous_, idea.

With a last glance at the pristine snow-covered grounds, Hermione turned to venture back into the castle and the warmth it promised.

She found her way blocked by a very tall individual, clothed in black billowing robes. "Professor Snape!" she exclaimed, feeling her face going red merely from his presence.

He seemed just as startled as she felt, but quickly schooled his features into its normal emotionless, cold state.

"Miss Granger," he said, and walked past her quickly.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and turned to walk away and process the random meeting and her reaction to it. Just as she thought she'd escaped, he said her name again.

"Yes sir?" she asked, managing to hide the nervousness from her voice.

He held up her notebook, raising an eyebrow at her carelessness. She turned a slightly deeper shade of red and took it from him. "Thank you," she muttered and turned to go again when when she found some sort of resistance holding her back.

She looked back and saw that Snape was still grasping the notebook firmly. "You should be more careful," he muttered, staring into her wide brown eyes.

"_Why am I baiting her?" _the Potions Master thought, for once unsure of his own actions.

Hermione was frozen. "Th-thank you," she repeated, unable to tear her eyes away from his dark, guarded ones.

He held onto the notebook for a moment longer, and then left the castle with his robes whipping behind him.

She stood in place, staring at the space he'd just inhabited, before finally managing to escape to somewhere warmer and... less confusing.


	6. February

If there was one holiday Severus Snape loathed more than Christmas it was Valentine's Day. Much like Christmas, it reminded him how very alone in the world he was, and also served as a wonderful excuse for students to mock him and flaunt their own petty, childish relationships.

He glared at the pile of garishly decorated cards that had accumulated on his desk during the course of the day. Deciding to get it over with, he began to rip into them.

They were a mixture of joke-Valentine's from cheeky students (which he easily deduced who sent them from a simple spell and then took the according points) and confessions of "love" from naive schoolgirls. Rolling his eyes at a bad attempt at poetry from a particularly brave Hufflepuff, he tossed aside one of the last cards to reveal a plain white envelope at the bottom of the stack.

He examined the envelope carefully, immediately wary of its simple construction. After casting a few spells to check whether or not the card would injure (or annoy) him in any way, Severus opened it and took out a small, tasteful card.

It had a design on the front that wasn't too offensively cheerful, and inside simply read, "Letting you know there is at least a small amount of sense within the chaos," and signed by...

"Granger?" he muttered, staring at the card incredulously. "Why Granger?" he muttered again.

He turned the card over in his hand, hoping it would reveal the answer to the question that was on his mind more and more lately.

* * *

"I hope he doesn't... I don't know, go mad or something from receiving a card," Hermione said nervously. Ginny Weasley, who Hermione had just confided in recently of her growing "crush", rolled her eyes and flipped a page in her magazine.

"What's the worst that could happen? He reads it, thinks it's silly, and tosses it," the redhead said matter-of-factly.

Hermione snorted in disbelief, thinking the girl before her may have gone mad herself. "He's going to hex me and take a hundred points from Gryffindor," she said.

Ginny gave the brunette a disbelieving look and shook her head, going back to the magazine before her.

Hermione was so confused by her feelings that she didn't know how to react to them anymore. She had originally thought the card was a good idea, but in hindsight she knew it was actually terrible. With the request for extra potions work and then this card, he'd know for sure she had some preposterous crush on him. The last thing she wanted was for him to view her as just another schoolgirl with a thing for the dark, mysterious Potions Master.

She sighed and envied her friend for the first time. Ginny knew Harry liked her, and vice versa. There was no questioning their feelings, and nobody thought they were odd for them either.

_"Why do I have to be so bloody weird?" _she thought.


	7. March

This would have been up earlier had I remembered. For that, I apologize. Only a few more chapters left! You readers have no idea how happy you make my day when I login to my email and see all the notifications of reviews, story alerts, and favorites. Expect the rest of the story to be updated like I have been, with one a day. Enjoy a bit of a longer chapter this time =D

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the mirror for about the fifth time since she'd returned to her dormitory after dinner. She pulled at a curl and let it bounce back into place, and then frowned at the frizziness that still persisted in annoying her (and had for as long as she could remember). She smoothed her robes and let out a puff of nervous breath before turning and walking towards the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"Damn it," the Gryffindor said. She turned and sat down on the floor, crossing her arms resolutely over her chest. "You can do this, Hermione," she told herself. "You've been going to these bloody extra potions sessions for months... it's not like he'll suddenly _know."_

She pulled the piece of parchment from her pocket that had arrived with the morning post that day. Unfolding the already-worn letter, she reread it to make sure it said what she thought.

"_Granger,_

_You've shown progress. Be in the dungeons at 5pm today._

_Severus Snape"_

Her hands were shaking as she put the parchment back into her robe pocket, and then stood to face the door once again. Bracing herself for whatever the next few hours might bring, Hermione Granger left the Gryffindor dormitory and ventured into the dungeons.

* * *

Severus Snape was nervous for the first time since he had been a student at Hogwarts himself. Pacing the length of the classroom, he looked at the door again and cursed that it had yet to open. He had invited her to come early to test this strange emotion that he'd recently developed and come to terms with, and to test _her. _Sure, she had some sort of _infatuation _with him, but would it withstand the real Severus? He snorted at the thought.

When the door creaked open at 5:01, he turned to glare at the bushy haired seventh year. "You're late," he said, attempting to put more force behind his glare.

The obviously nervous girl smoothed her hair and then her skirt, glancing at her watch. "I'm sorry, sir," Hermione said, not meeting his eyes. "My watch must be slow," she added hastily. He growled slightly and held out a piece of paper with his own handwriting scribbled across the surface.

"Tonight we shall see if you are truly... _interested _in what you seem to have been working for," he said, watching her to judge her reaction. Her face reddened slightly, but she merely nodded and took the offered parchment from him. Her intelligent brown eyes scanned it quickly before looking up at him questioningly.

"Wolfsbane?" she questioned.

"_Good," _thought the potions professor, "_she knows how difficult it is."_

"I've already prepared the initial steps that take most of the time, but the following part is the most difficult," he explained, tapping his own copy of the instructions on his desk. "It will require all of your attention and skill." Hermione nodded and immediately went to gather ingredients. Severus set up the cauldron he'd worked on for the past few weeks and set the heat to the proper level before undoing a spell that had kept the potion frozen in the state it needed to be for the next few steps.

They worked quietly, quickly, and with skill that neither had ever seen the other display before. Surprisingly to both, they worked well together. After close to five hours of near-constant slicing, chopping, pouring, stirring, and temperature adjusting, Severus let out a great sigh of relief. They'd made it through the extremely complex potion with a useable batch.

Hermione returned from the supply cabinet with several phials to store the potion and he watched as she began bottling it. He had never realized how much care she put into her potions work. Obviously she was a good, attentive student, but... her hands moved with practiced motions and he suddenly regretted wasting so much "extra lesson" time by pushing her further into books when she could have _really _been learning.

The Gryffindor was so focused on the potion in front of her that Severus moved next to her without her noticing. He reached out to take the now-filled phial from her, brushing his fingers against her wrist before closing his hand around her own smaller one. The reaction was instantaneous.

Hermione gasped and stepped back, pulling her hand away. Severus managed to hold onto the phial without spilling any of the potion, but his pride was slightly hurt. He had been sure that her sudden interest in his subject was partially due to some sort of attraction to himself. He realized he'd been wrong.

Severus turned away to put a stopper in the phial and paused when he turned back to the frozen girl. She was staring at her hand with a look akin to wonder and a faint blush across her cheeks. "_Well," _he thought, "_perhaps I was right all along_." He wanted to smile, really he did... but Severus Snape does not smile... at least not in the presence of Gryffindors with good memories.

"Well?" he barked, startling the girl out of her reverie. "You may leave," he said, surprised that he'd let the demand slip out with a sort of tone to it that suggested he'd rather she didn't. Wide brown eyes stared back at him for a moment before bushy hair bobbed in an emphatic nod and then... she was gone.

Severus slumped against his desk. "Now what?" he muttered to himself, staring at his own hand... the hand that had held hers, if only for a moment.


	8. April

Hermione Granger was never one to put off studying... which was why, an entire month prior to exam time, she was preparing for the NEWT exams. She was nearly done with her Hogwarts education, and she'd be _damned _if she wouldn't make it through with flying colors.

Because of the massive amount of work she'd decided to place on herself as some sort of self-torture, she had come to the conclusion that she needed to end her extra potion sessions. The thought nearly broke the Gryffindor's heart, considering she'd just recently managed to impress the potions master enough that he was actually teaching her some extremely interesting things, but it was something that she knew needed to be done.

Mentally preparing herself outside of Severus Snape's office, not for the first time that school year, Hermione raised her fist and knocked in a way that she hoped was confident. The door flew open and she was shocked to see the state the man was in.

"It's not Monday," he said, eyeing her strangely. She merely gaped at him, not quite sure how to react yet. His hair was tousled in such a way that it almost seemed as though he'd been banging his head against something, he had a bit of stubble on his usually clean-shaven chin, and his breath smelled suspiciously like he'd imbibed alcohol.

"Sir, are you alright?" she asked before she could help herself.

Dark eyes narrowed at her and the man practically growled, "It's my birthday, of course I'm not bloody 'alright'." He opened the door wide enough that she could enter and sat down heavily into his chair.

The words "_Happy Birthday" _died on her lips as she decided it would not be a welcome sentiment to the current company. "Sir, I just wanted to, er... to tell you that I don't think I can continue the extra potions lessons with NEWTs coming up," she spit out nervously.

He snorted derisively and said, "Of course." Severus motioned towards the door with his hand for her to leave, the other rubbing across his face in a defeated way.

"I really don't want to!" Hermione blurted, stepping closer to the inebriated man. He turned to look at her, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Like I've never heard that before," he said, narrowing his eyes into a half-hearted glare.

"Honestly Professor," Hermione said, a slight air of pleading creeping into her voice. "I've really enjoyed the extra lessons, especially the last month. I just... I want to do well," she finished lamely. The reaction she got to her admission was not at all what she had expected.

Severus Snape was laughing. He was not chuckling or snorting or even chortling in a good-natured manner... he was outright _laughing at her. _Hermione gathered herself up into what she hoped was an imposing figure and asked, "What on earth is so funny with a student wishing to do well on her final exams of her educational career?"

Severus stopped his tirade of laughter and stared at her, his eyes watering slightly. He stood and stepped towards her, rather unsteadily, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hermione tried not to let any reaction show to the contact. "Miss Granger," he said, his voice slurring almost imperceptibly, "There is not a doubt in my mind that you will do any less than excellent in your remaining time here." His dark eyes met her brown ones and, for the first time since she'd arrived in the magical world and met the infamous head of Slytherin, Severus Snape showed an emotion to another human being... _willingly_.

"I..." she trailed off as the man before her leaned in towards her. His face was very near hers when she realized what his intention was, his lips almost touching her own. Hermione Granger had never been so perplexed in her life. Grasping the fact that the man before her was _very_ drunk and not wanting to let him do anything he might regret, or anything he might not fully remember, she stepped back. His hand fell away and he looked slightly hurt for a second before his mask slid back into place. Before he could berate her to cover his own misgivings, she said "Sir, I just... I would really like you to remember if you... well, if you were going to do what I _think_ you were going to do."

His eyes evaluating her body language to see if she was being honest, Severus asked, "And what, pray tell, did you think I was about to do?"

Hermione blushed furiously but held her ground. "I... I believe you were about to kiss me. Sir." She cleared her throat and made to leave but was stopped by a hand on the door frame.

"And if I were in a less... _intoxicated _state... you would have allowed me such a luxury?" he asked, his voice betraying a level of candid curiosity.

Taking a moment to inhale and exhale deeply, Hermione gathered herself and met the man's eyes firmly. "That, I'm afraid, is something you will have to find out for yourself." With that, she turned towards the door yet again.

"Oh, and sir?" she said before making her escape. Severus turned, nearly losing his balance with the sudden movement, and raised an eyebrow. "Happy birthday," she said with a level of sincerity Severus hadn't received in years.

When the bushy head of hair was out of sight, the cranky, unhappy man allowed himself a small smile. "Happy birthday, indeed," he muttered to himself.


	9. May

And here's what you've all been waiting for. I assume.

* * *

Hermione was distracted.

She was well aware that this was not a new sentiment for her, but it was rather distressing when she was fidgeting with her school robes before her graduation ceremony. She stood in line with her peers, wondering what they had to be nervous about. _They _didn't have possibly life-threatening plots dealing with a rather confusing (and unreadable) Potions Master later.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and Hermione stood resolutely facing them. Inhaling deeply, she marched in line to meet her fate.

* * *

Severus was distracted.

He stood in front of his seat with the rest of the professors as the graduating students walked past them in a line. He couldn't help but search through the crowd for a particular bushy head of brown hair, and noticed she looked rather more nervous than accomplished like most of her peers. "_It was probably a much closer call for the rest of them,_" he thought, seeing Gregory Goyle marching in the line. Severus mentally shook himself. How on earth the useless lump had made it, he was unsure, but he inclined his head towards the young man as he met his gaze. He made sure to hide his amusement that it was quite obvious his fellow Slytherin wasn't quite sure how he'd done it either.

When the procession had found their seats on the other side of the room, Dumbledore stood to give a speech. Severus couldn't be bothered to listen to it, having heard it plenty of times already in his teaching career. "_I'm old_," he thought suddenly, and sat up straight. "_I'm old and should not let such opportunities as I've ignored the past few months go,_" he thought resolutely. That was it. Severus was going to do what he'd known he wanted to do for a few months now.

Belatedly he realized it was the end of the ceremony, and jumped up when he noticed that Professor Flitwick next to him had already stood to move to the front of the room.

* * *

Hermione nervously marched in line, sure that the grin on her face was beyond silly looking. She waited her turn to shake the hands of all her professors and be congratulated. Many of them told her she would be sure to be very successful, a couple told her to contact them if she needed references, and one even begged her to come on as a professor. She giggled anxiously and found herself standing in front of Professor Snape.

She breathed deeply again, and held out her hand. He grasped it in his, and she was reminded of the prior incident when he'd practically held her hand.

The Slytherin gave her a questioning look, but she merely inclined her head. Fighting a blush, Hermione allowed herself the luxury of the corner of her mouth twitching up into a mischievous smirk, and moved down the line.

* * *

It took all of Severus's self-control to not immediately read the note that Miss Granger had slipped into his hand. He let his hand fall to his side and carefully placed the parchment into his pocket, while grasping Justin Finch-Fletchley's hand with his free one. He nodded jerkily, even more desperate for the ridiculous tradition to be over.

As soon as the line had passed by and it was obvious that the professors and students milling about were simply chatting, Severus moved to a secluded corner of the room and reached into his pocket. With slightly trembling fingers, he opened the note.

"_I believe we have unfinished business to attend to. Potions classroom, as soon as you can get away._

_-H.G._"

With a polite inclination of his head towards the headmaster, Severus fled.

* * *

Hermione twisted her hands in her lap, leaning against one of the tables. She had no idea how this would turn out. She hoped she would at least make it out alive, and dared not be optimistic enough to hope she would still have all of her limbs once the encounter was over.

When she heard footsteps rapidly approaching, she straightened herself and made sure that her skirt was twisted the right way and no bits of hair were doing anything too unruly.

The door opened and he stepped in. She immediately couldn't breath quite right, and took an unconscious step forward.

* * *

Severus moved into the room with a purpose and stood in front of the girl, far enough away to be comfortable but close enough to properly _see _her. He took in her appearance greedily, from the slightly frizzy curls to the ink stained fingers. She seemed to have lost all powers of speech and her cheeks held a faint blush.

Black eyes met her deep brown ones, unable to interpret what was going on behind them.

Finally, when he was unsure himself what should happen next, Severus held up the crumpled bit of parchment. Hermione opened her mouth but seemed incapable of speech. She cleared her throat and took a hesitant step forward. The space between them was now somewhere between intimate and uncomfortably close; Severus wasn't quite sure which yet.

* * *

Sighing with frustration at her sudden cowardess, Hermione tried to give him a reassuring smile. She was sure it probably looked very pained and uneasy.

Finally, after a long silence, she held up three fingers. "I'm of age," she said. The dark haired man before her raised an eyebrow questioningly when she lowered one of the fingers.

Lowering another, she said, "I'm no longer a student." He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he wondered what on earth she was getting at.

Finally, breathlessly, she put down the last one. When he looked properly bewildered, she said, "You aren't drunk."

She examined his face to see the emotions flitting across it: confusion, comprehension, and finally determination.

He took another step forward and leaned in until his face was barely an inch away from hers. Severus raised a hand and placed it lightly on the side of her face, causing her breathing to become increasingly unsteady. Smirking slightly, he closed the distance and placed his lips lightly against hers.

At first neither of them moved beyond that. Finally coming back to her senses slightly, Hermione pressed her lips more urgently against his, her hands coming to rest against his chest. He brought his other hand around her waist to rest on her lower back, pulling her firmly against him.

Months of tension and wondering and _hoping _suddenly manifested in a need to be as close as possible. One of Hermione's hands made its way up to grasp his neck, effectively making sure he didn't back away. Faintly, Severus thought she had nothing to worry about.

He parted her lips and allowed himself to explore, their tongues touching fervently with a previously withheld desire. A small noise escaped the back of Hermione's throat. Severus took that as encouragement and smiled against the kiss.

A few minutes later, the seemingly mismatched couple parted, both gasping slightly for breath.

Hermione seemed to compose herself slightly, enough to say, "That was..."

Severus smirked when she seemed lost for words, and she giggled slightly hysterically. Not wanting to allow her to get too far away, he stepped forward and held her against him. He indulged himself the pleasure of stroking her disorderly hair and sighed contently. He wasn't sure he'd been this open in a while, but it felt rather... _nice._ He was quite sure he'd be annoyed with himself later, but he at least could let himself enjoy it for now.

"So," she said, stepping back slightly but holding his hand in hers and examining it in favor of meeting his eyes. His other hand reached up and grasped her chin. Forcing her eyes upward, she met his and saw that he was smiling. A genuine smile.

If she weren't so happy, Hermione was quite positive she would be terrified.

"So," he agreed, examining her face. Unused to such attention, she blushed and strained to keep her head up.

"I'm rather sure this wasn't just... just some silly, schoolgirl crush," the Gryffindor blurted, turning an even brighter shade of red. He raised an eyebrow and she felt the urge to continue. "What I mean is, I honestly like you. Besides the fact that you're an unreasonable git to my friends, enjoy torturing any student who isn't a Slytherin, and are generally an all around bastard..." she trailed off and slapped a hand to her mouth.

"If you hadn't said that," he asserted, holding her gaze steadily, "I would have told you that it _was _a 'silly schoolgirl crush.' As it is..." he trailed off, his eyes dropping to her lips. Hermione was surprised to find herself shivering at the implication. With a smirk, he said, "Are you sure you're prepared to deal with the pigheaded, sarcastic, and quite possibly _evil _head of Slytherin?"

She realized that his tone held a hint of amusement, and smiled. "Only if you're prepared to deal with a know-it-all, equally stubborn, honorable-to-a-fault Gryffindor?" she answered defiantly.

Smirking still, Severus looked playfully thoughtful for a moment. Sighing dramatically, he pulled her close to him again and lowered his lips to nearly touching hers. "I suppose," he whispered, his breath teasing her and causing shivers to run up and down her spine, "that we'll just have to see."

Placing his lips against hers yet again, Severus decided he was quite sure he could learn to deal with her Gryffindor qualities.

Hermione, already very aware of how completely Slytherin he was, absolutely agreed.


End file.
